


That's What Makes It Love

by MissTantabis



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blood and Gore, Dark fic, Disfigurement, Gen, Gore, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Murder, Mutilation, Torture, Violence, emotional breakdown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 04:28:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17134952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissTantabis/pseuds/MissTantabis
Summary: Holding the long chains in his hands, the dark wizard responded: “A lot is still unspoken between us.” Gellert walked towards Albus, prowling like a cat, “Things you rather not hear. You need to hear this! You need to know what you have done to me!”Gellert Grindelwald has captured Albus Dumbledore. Finally he has the chance to make the Professor pay for the great betrayal he committed against him. However his most trusted men fear that this route might be counterproductive and not what he actually needs.





	1. Let Sleeping Emotions Lie

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RumplesDagger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RumplesDagger/gifts).



> Dear Rumpledaggers,  
> I am your gifter from the Grindeldore Holiday Exchange. I took the liberty of turning your prompt into a fully fledged story and not just a oneshot. I do hope that this is in the direction of what you were expecting and maybe even goes beyond the expected. I wish you happy Holidays.  
> Yours sincerly, Miss T
> 
> This part of the note is for the general audience.  
> First of all, hey everybody! I am happy to see that you have stumbled upon this fanfiction of mine. Now before you start reading, I would like to say a few words that I hope you will bear in mind.  
> This story was written before I saw Crimes of Grindelwald. Thus while certain elements are similiar to canon, others had to be reinterpreted to fit with the story. So I would be glad if you don't correct me on so-called plot mistakes or whatever.  
> Secondly, this story is a dark Grindeldore fanfic. It is aimed at adults. Thus I am expecting my reading audience to be adults and behave like adults in the comments. I would advice everybody here to heed the warnings in the tags and in the describtion of the fanfic to make the best call for whether they believe, they can read this or not.  
> I also would like to emphasis that I love Albus Dumbledore (even though I love Gellert a touch more); despite the way I am treating him in this fic.  
> With this massive stuff out of the way, I hope you, dear reader, will enjoy this work written here. As always, I own nothing. All characters and locations here are courtseys of JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I simply wrote this story for entertainment and fun.  
> Comments, constructive criticism and kudos are highly encouraged.  
> Sincerly,  
> Miss T

High up in the mountains of the Alps the air was so thin and cold, that nobody in their right mind would go outside or live up there. If they did, they would hide behind thick walls and make warmth their closest friend. Sunlight’s warmth, fire’s warmth, the woollen sheep’s fur’s warmth.

The living room of Nurmengard Castle was such a harbour of warmth. It could be reached through the entrance as it seemed to melt with the corridor. Through a large window, which covered almost an entire wall, the sunlight flitted across wooden floors and deep red, fluffy carpets. It basked across a few shelves, containing some books.

The heart of the living room was the fireplace. Made out of dark marble stone, perfectly polished, in it a fire was fed day and night. It roared in joy and sent sparks into the air. Orange flames brought warmth and in times of winter one of the major light sources.

There were a few chairs around a wooden table, however Gellert Grindelwald’s personal favourite spot had to be the large, comfortable armchair, located before the fireplace. It stood in a way, that let the warmth lull you in easily, however it never became unbearable.

Right now Grindelwald stood next to that armchair and stared at the newspaper, he clutched with his fingers. His knuckles were white and his lips pressed into a thin line. A few strands of his golden hair trembled before his mismatched eyes.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL INCREASES SECURITY, screamed the newspaper headline at Grindelwald. Underneath it was a picture of the infamous castle. It was moving and the castle with its many towers and crenellations was coming into view behind a couple of hills. Though this main article was not what bothered the dark wizard. It was to be expected that Hogwarts felt the need to increase its security. They wanted to be safe from Grindelwald’s threat. Even though Gellert had not yet set foot in Scotland. Or England for that matter.

What did bother Gellert, was the fact that underneath this lead story was a smaller article in a different margin. The title of it merely ran  _ “We want the same thing: The defeat of Grindelwald” – Analysing Albus Dumbledore’s political statement _ .

The article went on to say how the famed Professor of Defence Against The Dark Arts advocated for Gellert’s capture and even murder. Stating, that Grindelwald was a monster and thus deserved to die for all the heinous crimes he had committed. The article claimed that Dumbledore voiced his full support of the Ministry’s campaign and drastic measures were the right way to go. That since Grindelwald and his Fanatics did not shy away from killing, it was absolutely acceptable to use the same violence against them.

More then the half of this article had to be a lie! Gellert Grindelwald knew Albus Dumbledore and his political agenda. The Professor had made his stance on the subject matter quite clear. He did object to his ideas, however he also objected to the Ministry’s way of handling things. And even though this article was sprouting more half-truths then actual facts, Gellert could not help but feel a nasty sting. For one thing was sure: The line, quoted in the header, spoke Dumbledore through and through to him.

So he did indeed want Grindelwald’s defeat. How the tides had turned! From all the people, whom Gellert had hoped would understand his stance and decisions, it was Albus Dumbledore, who fully turned his back on him. But whom was Gellert kidding? Deep down he had always known his former friend, his former love would become his enemy.

Still assuming something hypothetically and then seeing it come true in black and white were two very different things. For when you assumed something, you could shove it away. You could calm that angry heart in your chest, that urged you to take action. You could – quite ironically – turn a blind eye to what you feared would come true.

However once you had evidence that it was happening, you were forced to take action. Gellert had assumed, it would pain him to take this step. But to his surprise the opposite was true. However considering what Dumbledore had done to Grindelwald, it made sense. It was easy. So very easy and natural. The right thing to do. The right urge to follow. Revenge was love’s ugly cousin and hatred love’s sister.

Smoke started to curl up at one of the newspaper’s edges. It began to simmer and finally erupted in blue flames. They ate away at the paper, which crumbled and rustled. It turned into a pile of ash, which rained down before Grindelwald. Small and weak.

Gritting his teeth, Gellert rose one of his boots and slammed the sole onto the ash. Twisting his ankle, he ground the black pile into the carpet. And with each move Grindelwald did, he pictured it was Dumbledore, whom he was grinding into the floor. He imagined hearing joints plop, bones creak and feeling skin rip open, blood drenching the sole of his boot.

Dumbledore had finally shown his real hand! The chess game was fully opened. Gellert Grindelwald could not risk losing it. Albus was good at playing the political game of gathering information, getting connections, starting and intercepting attacks. He was up to Grindelwald’s level, because Dumbledore knew him. And Gellert could not allow him to use that knowledge against him.

There was too much at stake. Too many people depended on him. Gellert had made a promise to all his followers. That they would form a world, where wizards were free to follow their own agency. A world, where they could achieve their old greatness. Albus did not want to see that world come to fruition. He did not like the idea of forceful change. But Gellert would not let him stop him. The blonde wizard would not break his promise to those, who had sworn allegiance to him.

Unlike him.

His hand reached to his collar and Gellert pulled a pendant out of its hiding place by a small, iron chain. The pendant was designed like a vial. Iron flowers, swirls and hearts wrapped themselves around a small, strange gem. Amber and mist seemed to hunt each other. Funny how gifts were meant to stand for promises.

And how easily they could be ignored and discarded. Empty words. Why did Gellert cling to them after more then twenty years? Why did some nasty part in him whisper  _ You owe me an apology, you owe me for lost time, you owe me for my hurt _ ? What was Grindelwald waiting for? He wanted to make Dumbledore pay so badly. Make him know what he had done. _ I committed crimes, Albus? What about your crimes? What about all the things that you have done? _

All the while his fingers ran over the edges of the pendant. Gellert stopped and put it back into its original place. He waved his hand, and the pile of ash spiralled into the fire place. Gellert walked towards the working desk. He yelled: “Carrow!!!”

It did not take long for her to heed his calling. Gellert Grindelwald had just taken a seat when the door opened and a woman entered. Carrow was tall, stout, with a round, calm face, dark eyes and short black hair. She crossed the room and stopped before Grindelwald. Placing her hands on her thighs, she tipped him a brief bow. “Yes, mein Herr?”

Her German sounded absolutely horrible. They always butchered his mother tongue. Gellert had never asked them to address him with a title. Somehow the wording “mein Herr” and “Sir” had developed on its own.

“I need your service.” Gellert Grindelwald closed his hands into one another and leaned forwards. Pools of black ink and icy water rooted her to the spot. His fingers rubbed against his upper lip. “Carrow, I want you to go to Hogwarts and capture Albus Dumbledore.” Gellert gave the order in a tone as if the required task was as simple as delivering a parcel.

Carrow did not seem to agree with this notion. She made a face as if Grindelwald had just asked her to climb the Eiffel Tower without any security. Mouth wide open, she gawked at him for a couple of seconds, before she caught herself and stammered: “Mein Herr, do forgive me for this remark, but I must say that this order of yours… It is quite impossible for me to do.”

She shrunk back as if she feared to be reprimanded for these words. Grindelwald tutted. “Carrow, Carrow”, he said in a gentle chide, “Would I give you a task if I did not believe you could not pull it off? Have I ever given you an order that overestimated your set of skills?”

Carrow bashfully shook her head. “No, mein Herr.”

“Good.” Gellert nodded towards the door. “Then leave.”

***

This was an absolutely terrible idea. Carrow kept cursing Grindelwald as soon as the feeling of nausea left her. Her fingers clutched around the port key she had used. The ring of keys jingled as Carrow shoved them into the inner cloak pocket. Moistness kissed her skin. Amazing how the temperature from country to country could change so drastically. Austria might be freezing in the alpines, but English moors were always so wet.

Clouds drifted above the night sky. The moon hung in deep sea waves. A gust of winds made the Forbidden Forest whisper with a thousand voices. Carrow could see the many tips of the trees, though the homogeneous, green mass looked more like a massive pond to her then an actual forest.

And out of this pond protruded Hogwarts Castle on a cliff. Imposing and silent. The walls of grey marble a shimmer of silver. Dozens of towers and pointy tops. The place looked like Carrow remembered it. Home. Tough she no longer called it as such, the woman immediately embraced the familiarity that came with being near it. Her calm and composed nature and the ability to almost go by unnoticed had made her family fear Carrow would end up in Hufflepuff when she had first arrived at Hogwarts. But even though the hat had considered this for some time, he had finally selected Slytherin after an agonising hat stall of five minutes and thirty seconds, stating that Carrow’s calmness was more a mask towards an incredible cunning.

She was less then happy about this task. There had been missions before, where under the cover of the night the acolyte had taken items or murdered. But these cases had always been with targets she could handle easily.

Albus Dumbledore… He was a different number entirely. Many considered him Grindelwald’s equal. His actions made the Professor almost untouchable. And Carrow held a begrudgingly respect for him. Still he was their enemy. And Carrow had a mission to do. This was no time for self doubts. Concerns and worries were not welcomed.

Her feet left dark prints upon the rime in the grass. As Carrow advanced towards the castle, she saw something strange shimmer in mid-air above the castle gates. Halting besides a tree, the woman drew out her wand. Carrow sent a ray of sparks into the sky. They prickled against the substance, which now revealed itself to be a shield.

_ Damn it. _ Carrow slunk out of the shadows of the tree. There was an Auror, patrolling the grounds. He seemed to be alone. Good. Carrow approached the man. He was guarding the bridge, that lead to Hogwarts’ main hall.

He halted and pointed his wand at her. “Who goes there?!”, the man shouted, “Show yourself!”

Carrow stepped into the light of his glowing wand. Hands buried in her pockets and head lowered. Reddish brown hair danced over her face. “I am lost, Sir. I apologise”, Carrow said. Her voice was soft and held just the right note of despair, that could make anybody’s heart melt.

The Auror blinked. “What is a young Miss like you doing out here in the middle of the night?”

“I was taking a hike and it suddenly got dark. I have been walking for hours. I am so” – Carrow tried to stifle a yawn behind her hand – “tired. Can I stay in the castle for just the night? I promise I will leave at dawn.”

The Auror behind the shield now looked really softened. He shook his head with a sigh. “You poor woman”, he mused, “Fine. I’ll let you in.” He waved his wand and parts of the shield disappeared before her. Carrow stepped through it.

“Thank you, my good Sir!”, she called and shook his hand, “I don’t know where I would be without you.”

The man blushed. “Please think none of it, Ma’am.” He closed the shield again. As he resumed his patrol, Carrow rose her wand. The tip started to glow white. She altered the memory of the Auror, before he even had a chance to disappear around the corner. Once he would do that, he had already forgotten everything about the mysterious woman and their encounter.

Carrow headed towards the castle. Now the difficult part would start. The acolyte had to find Albus Dumbledore, and she did not know where his sleeping quarters were. Raising her wand again, Carrow closed her eyes and whispered: “Albus revelio.” A silvery line appeared. The acolyte hurried after this line as it dashed across the corridors, over staircases and around corners.

Finally the silver line transfigured itself into a little white blob before a door. Behind this door had to be Albus Dumbeldore. It had been her luck that during this crazy chase with the spell nobody had passed or even seen the woman. To be absolutely sure that Albus Dumbledore was indeed alone, Carrow rose her wand again and cast the human revealing charm. Nobody else was there.

“Alohomora.” The door unlocked with a quiet click. Like a dark shadow, Carrow slipped into the room. She let a small, orange flame blossom on her palm. Lumos was such a bright spell. It would wake Albus if she was not careful. But this little fire could hardly cause any harm.

Upon a night stand stood a stack of books on Defence Against The Dark Arts, but Carrow also spotted a particular green and golden volume, upon its back were animals and the title  _ Fantastic Beasts & Where To Find Them _ . The silence of the room was only disturbed by the quite blinking, swirling and jingling of several strange, small silver instruments. A few were emitting some fine, sparkling fumes. A stack of papers was on what seemed to be a writing and reading desk. More books around this table, however it was too dark for Carrow to decipher anything.

Her attention turned itself to the canopy bed in the centre of the room. Large, satin curtains guarded it in the most beautiful patterns of red and gold. A large lion was stitched upon it and the embroidery shimmered. Were those golden threads? And sequins? Merlin’s beard, Hogwarts’ Professors were living like kings!

On silent soles, Carrow approached the bed. Levitating her flames besides her, so she had a free hand, the acolyte pulled the curtain aside. Albus Dumbledore was sleeping in white and blue stripped pyjamas on a large, fluffy pillow with a fine, daisy white blanket on top of him. He looked so peaceful. Without a care in the world.

Carrow extinguished her flames. Carrow pulled two items out of her pocket. One of them was a small glass bottle, the other one a napkin. Carrow spread the napkin on her flat hand. Using non-verbal magic, she unstopped the bottle. Out of the narrow neck spread a heavy smelling odour.

Drenching the napkin in the substance, the acolyte leaned forwards. She placed the napkin upon Dumbledore’s mouth and nose. The strong smell caused her to curl her lips in disgust. And she did not seem to be the only one, who had noticed it. A flutter ran through Albus Dumbledore’s eyelids. He seemed to have been startled by the scent and now tried to wake up.

_ Oh, no! Not on my watch! You go right back to sleep! _ Carrow shifted her weight and pressed down with all her might. She could feel Dumbledore flail underneath her, but the dark haired woman did not let go. Finally under low and deep breaths, Albus started to inhale more of the odour and his attacks ceased. His head tilted aside and he shut his eyes.

Carrow pulled the napkin back and rose again. She cautiously looked back at the door. It seemed nobody had heard the fight. Now she had to hurry up. Dumbledore would only stay like this for a few hours. Taking a hold of his shoulder, Carrow searched in her pockets for the keys. As soon as her fingers found the object, her stomach slithered into her throat; and she and Albus got transported towards their destination.

* * *

Translation:

Mein Herr = My Lord


	2. Too Personal

Aside from its location high up in the mountains, Gellert Grindelwald had made full use of the immediate environment in Nurmengard’s protection. The castle rested at the slope of a thick forest, but what guarded it most of all was the thundering, powerful current of a waterfall. Here the major entrance was located. An arch of grey stone, upon which the words FÜR DAS GRÖSSERE WOHL had been carved. The only way to reach those gates, aside from perfect apparition, were the three stepping stones, which laid between swirls of water.

While Azkaban and the works of its previous dark owner Ekrizidis had inspired Nurmengard, the castle was more. It recaptured the old glory days of Grindelwald’s family and maybe, just maybe parts of Hogwarts had influenced its design. But it was more then Azkaban, more then Hogwarts. Nurmengard was a beauty, made out of dark stone, which seemed to have grown out of the mountain itself. And just like the mountain, it was as unyielding, protected by the elements and powerful enchantments.

Nurmengard was more then a prison. It was a home. For Grindelwald and for many of his men; especially his Acolytes. Certain spots of the building with its convoluted and labyrinth-like corridors were reserved for prisoners. Grindelwald’s prisoners mostly had to sleep in the heart of the mountain, huddled in groups with disease and hunger in the air.

Gellert Grindelwald had not left his spot since he had given Carrow the task to deal with Albus Dumbledore. Sitting in the foyer, his mismatched eyes stared at the fire. Impatience burned in all his limps. Why was this taking so long? Surely Carrow had not failed? There was an almost child-like excitement in him, causing him to drum his hand on his trouser and tap his feet. How would Dumbledore look when Grindelwald finally saw him after all those years? More importantly, how would he look once Grindelwald was done with him?

A plopping noise appeared, and Gellert’s head jerked around like a startled cat. Carrow unceremoniously kicked the door open and dragged something into the room, before dropping a figure before Grindelwald. He was as limp as a doll. The brown short hair bore no sign of injury. He had grown a beard. His hands were tied behind his back. Gellert Grindelwald cautiously rose and pocked him with his boot, almost fearing that this was nothing but an illusion. But the body gave way under Gellert and allowed him to turn it over.

The breath caught in Grindelwald’s throat. It had actually worked! Albus Dumbledore was in his grasp. He had the power over his life and death! A strangled whine escaped Grindelwald’s lips, and his legs felt like they were about to give in. This was a dream come true. No moment had ever left the dark wizard more excited; except for when he had found the Elder Wand! Now was his chance to make Dumbledore regret his choice bitterly!

“Well done, Carrow.” Gellert clapped and smiled at her. “You have done me a great service. I shall not forget that and you will be rewarded accordingly.”

Carrow bowed. “Thank you, mein Herr.”

Gellert’s mismatched eyes rested on Albus. He wanted to be alone with him, when he woke up. Where should he place him? In one of the group cells inside of the mountain? No, he deserved a truly special treatment. After all he was not any prisoner. His situation was too personal to just degrade him before others. Grindelwald wanted his downfall to happen in secret. Before he would sent his marginalised body to the Ministry of Magic. That would leave a message!

Carrow had observed Gellert in silence. Finally she stated: “Mein Herr, what’s that look on your face?” Gellert relaxed his muscles, realising that maybe his desire for revenge had been a bit too apparent in his flaring eyes and the smile, spreading across his face.

“Whatever do you mean?”, Gellert Grindelwald crooned; and any possible remark the dark haired woman had, died on her lips, “Look, Carrow, this man has to be brought into the solitary confinement cell.” He nodded towards Albus Dumbledore and stepped over him as if he was already dead. “Wouldn’t you do the honours?”

Carrow flicked her wrist and murmured: “ _ Wingardium Leviosa _ ”. Albus Dumbledore floated up. He hung there like a marionette, which was only hold by the barest of strings. His head rolled backwards behind his shoulders, his feet and fingers graced the ground, and his back seemed to be arched.

Carrow inquired cautiously: “You don’t plan on killing him, do you?”

Gellert did not look at Albus as with a snip of the Elder Wand, he opened the doors into the labyrinth of corridors. “No”, Grindelwald stated and they started walking, “Not yet.”

***

The highest tower of Nurmengard was so tall, the sounds of the river were only a faint whisper, which merged into the hisses of the wind. It pressed against the narrow windows. The solitary confinement cell was smaller then the attic. It could only be reached by a spiralling staircase; and the heavy door had the nasty habit of jamming.

The cell contained of the absolute necessary. Circular, it was equipped with a hard bed and a bucket for excrements. The blanket was thin and holey. It could hardly combat the freezing cold. Carrow had levitated Albus Dumbledore onto the bed.

Gellert stood in the centre of the room, clutching a bag to his chest. The dark wizard stared at Albus Dumbledore. That handsome, peaceful face, that unstained skin. Anybody not knowing him would have thought him a righteous, honourable man. A man of virtues. But Gellert Grindelwald knew the truth. He was none of this.

Carrow headed back in the direction of the door. “I’ll leave you alone, Herr”, she whispered. Grindelwald nodded curtly. The door shut behind him, and the sound was so loud, it felt like it echoed through the centuries. For a short moment his skin felt damp. As if the boy of Godric’s Hollow had stepped into the room alongside him. Begging him to consider what he was about to do. But Gellert wiped the feelings away. The boy had no place here. He had been ruined by Albus Dumbledore. He was dead. He could not come back.

Albus Dumbledore stirred, the effects of the odour finally wearing off. The Professor tried to sit up. He looked around; a hazy mist upon the blue sky. His blue eyes cleared as they rested upon Gellert. “So you’ve come at last”, Albus murmured. There was resignation in his tone. As if he had expected this moment.

Albus’ gaze wandered over him. Twenty years had passed. It had dug its mark clearly into Albus Dumbledore’s face. With Grindelwald and his love for dark magic, the effects were a lot less easier to identify. The same golden hair, the same mismatched eyes, the same peculiar jaw bones. However Albus Dumbledore’s face eclipsed, and his shoulders dropped. Grindelwald knew what he was seeing. The steel glow in his sea of ink and ice water. His cheek bones seemed even more prominent now. The tenseness of the entire body. Years had ripped out any tenderness his heart used to harbour. “Was all this really necessary, Grindelwald?”

“You don’t even know why I brought you here”, Gellert remarked disdainfully. He placed the bag down and opened it. Sharp blades and knives. Chains and ropes. Riding crops and whips. Gellert placed all these items on the floor besides him, pondering over what he should use. He finally decided to settle on the whip.

It was a beautiful whip. The handle, covered in smooth black leather, laid well in his hand. The whip coiled over the ground like some large snake. Its leather stripe had been cleaned and polished. It smelled waxed. Such a mess it would make, once blood stained the smooth surface.

“Gellert, I am not stupid.” Albus laughed weakly and shook his head at him.

Such audacity! That this man pretended to be unaffected by it all! Where was the fear? Where was the worry? Where were the questions?  _ Come on, Dumbledore, you cannot always remain a saint! _ Grindelwald shifted from foot to foot.

Albus continued: “You have me here, because I pose a threat to your cause. But I know that this conflict is personal. What do you hope to gain from hurting me? What possible satisfaction could that give you?”

“What…?” The whip banged on the stone floor. Gellert leaned forwards as much as he could dare without taking a step towards Albus. “What do I gain from this?”, he repeated sharply and pulled back. “Do you honestly think I did not see what you are doing in your precious, little castle? Do you think I am this blind?”

And with these words Gellert swung the whip over his head. The leather strip was becoming a cobra, which rose to sink venomous fangs into its victim. Turning around like an artist, Gellert sent the leash flying through the air. It struck hard against Albus’ chest, however the sound of leather hitting flesh was overpowered by the howling scream, that escaped the Professor’s lips. He buckled over. The hands tied behind their back twitched. The natural reflex to hold the pained guts. Albus sunk onto his knees. His breathing was loud and hollow.

Pathetic! Gellert had hardly started. And Dumbledore was already caving in. Even his stupid brother had hold longer under the Cruciatus Curse. Hearing Albus suck in lungs full of breath, Gellert explained: “Yes, I immediately saw through Mister Scamander’s facade. He’s working under your orders. He is your spy!”

“Well, what were you expecting me to do?” Albus managed to raise again. His legs shook, but he forced his knees to stand still. Don’t appear weak. You have no right to appear weak, for that would go against the public persona you build for yourself. But then why could see Grindelwald each sign he tried to cover up so hard? The whip had ripped several holes into Albus’ grey suit. The skin on his chest was red. The breathing had turned into a labour; ribcage expanding and falling. “Come for you myself? You know, I cannot do that.”

_ Excuses, excuses! Quit being the saint you are pretending to be! For you are as much a general as am I! _ Grindelwald rolled his eyes and let the whip draw things into the ground. “And why not?”, he snarled, “I could come for you.” Gellert had a feeling he knew the answer. But he wanted to hear him say it. Grindelwald wanted to hear what crazy illusion Albus Dumbledore used to pull his head out of the mess he had gotten himself into. What ludicrous and mad excuse would have to serve Albus’ egotistical need this time?

“The Ministry is watching me, Gellert”, Albus said, “They think, because I do not do anything to stop you, I might show sympathy for your ideas. Which I am not. But they won’t listen to me! I have tracking bracelets on my wrists!” Gellert squinted his eyes, wondering if this was true. Placing the whip away, he walked over to Albus to check behind his back.

Pulling out a knife from his belt, Gellert Grindelwald cut Albus’ sleeve open and indeed there were two metal rings around his wrists. He drew out the Elder Wand. Albus tried to turn his head, wanting to see what the blond man was doing. However soon enough another dreadful scream escaped his lips as Gellert sent a blaze of smouldering hot fire upon his wrists. It melted the rings and made them so thin, that a flick of Gellert Grindelwald’s wand could break them in two.

The broken rings clinked against the stone as Gellert kicked them away. Albus eyed his wrists with absolute horror. They were awfully red and throbbing. In parts skin had been melted off. He did not dare to touch them. Each slightest move seemed to hurt them. He stammered: “Are you crazy, Gellert?!”

“No. I removed an inconvenience for myself. The Ministry has no place here. This debate is between you and me.” Gellert snatched his injured wrist, which made him yell again. Brushing his thumbs over it, the dark wizard healed the wound just enough so that it was not a deep purple scarlet. “Now tell me: Why can’t you really do anything against me?”

“Because I love you!”, Albus burst out, “Do you think I want to be your enemy?!” He hastened forwards like an injured dog, which tried to get back into the arms of his master. _So needy…_ Grindelwald rose a hand and gave Albus such a shove that the Professor fell back onto the floor with a groan. Now more of surprise, then of actual pain.

“No! You don’t!”, Gellert stated. His wandless magic wrapped itself around Albus and forced him back onto his feet. The dark wizard then took out another knife, more meant for throwing. It had a rectangular sharp and looked a lot sharper then the dagger Gellert had used before hand. He tested the blade by brushing his fingers against the edge. 

“If you did, you would not be behaving like this.” With these words, Gellert shot forwards and ripped open Albus’ cheek. The blade cut through the flesh like butter. Blood sprayed onto the stones. A few drops landed on Grindelwald’s sleeves.

Keeping the crimson blade levitated in his magic, Gellert stared at Albus and spat: “Love is long, complicated and difficult! Das macht es zur Liebe, nehme ich an! But you do not see it that way. You chose the easy way out! Even now you have selected somebody else to play your part. Because you are too scared to face me.” He shook his head. “What is it that you see in Newt? What makes you this fond of him? What gives him the right to seek you out, snuggle against you for affection as if he is entitled to it?! And you are wondering why I hate that man!” The blade hurled through the air and ripped another wound into Albus’ shoulder. It caused another scream and the Professor slumped back down.

Gellert crossed his arms. Albus panted and sat on his haunches. Leaning forwards, blood dropped down from his wound. He carefully staggered onto his feet. “Gellert” – Albus’ voice sounded strained – “you’ve got to be kidding me. There is nothing between me and Newt. Do you hear me? Nothing!” He was shaking. “You are just jealous. Stupidly jealous. There is nothing there. You have to trust me.”

Any intention of Grindelwald to give a measured response was thrown out the window at this last line. Was Albus actually serious? Rage soared through his body. His blood sang in his ears. Magic sparked at the edge of the Elder Wand. Leaping forwards like a Tatzelwurm, which went for the pig’s jugular, Gellert fired the next curse that sprang into his head.

A series of purple sparks rained down upon Albus Dumbledore. He did not even have it in him to scream. Instead he staggered on the spot for a couple of seconds, before he tumbled backwards like a marionette with cut strings. Even the noise he was making sounded haunted and quiet.

“Trust you?!”, Gellert Grindelwald repeated and could barely contain any control over his volume. “Why should I trust a man, who cannot keep his own word?!” He was tempted to kick him. However Gellert had already done enough damage.

In his angry movement, the white scarf around his neck had loosened and now the small pendant became visible. It swung around at the hasty movements. The metal shone like silver in the dim room. The amber stone seemed to be lit on fire in the darkness of the room. The light seemed to pulsate like a heart.

Albus laid there, only one side of his face visible. His blue eye widened upon spotting the pendant. A gasp left his throat. “You...you kept it? You kept my gift.” He was staggering onto his feet. His hand reached forwards as if to take the pendant.

However before Albus had any chance to get a hold of it, Gellert shoved it back underneath his shirt’s collar. Waving the Elder Wand, the dark wizard fixed up his scarf and tied it properly. Brushing over the leather vest, Grindelwald remarked: “Does it matter that I kept it?”

“Of course it does!”, babbled Albus, “It means you have not forgotten me. It means you still love me!” There was a wide smile on his face. He looked so ridiculously longing and needy. It disgusted Grindelwald.

“If I loved you”, Gellert replied icily, “Would I have done this?”

It seemed that reality returned back to Albus. His blue eyes glazed over in pain and his smile faltered. He finally looked at Grindelwald. Actually tried to look at the blonde wizard. If anybody, who had known Albus Percival Wulfric Dumbledore, came in now, they would not have recognised the man before Grindelwald.

Half of Albus’ face seemed to have been thorn off. There were three large and deep gashes on the left side. They ran from the middle of his forehead diagonally towards his ear. It was a miracle that his eye had not been damaged by it. However the lid was crusty and sticky. As if Albus finally became aware of his own injury, a wail escaped his lips. A high, choked off, sobbed wail like that of a toddler. “Gellert”, he stammered, “What have you…? How could you…? I cannot believe… I… I thought you were better then this.”

Grindelwald’s wrist flicked methodically like a conductor as he packed up his things. The knives floated back into the bag and the whip rolled itself up, before it joined them. The bag shut itself. Grabbing the luggage, he moved towards the door. As he did so, Gellert gave Albus one last look and said: “Dann würde ich dir raten nicht mehr so hohe Ansprüche an deinen Gegenüber zu stellen.”

* * *

Translation:

Für das größere Wohl = For the greater Good

mein Herr = my Lord

Dann würde ich dir raten nicht mehr so hohe Ansprüche an deinen Gegenüber zu stellen. = Then I would advice you to no longer place such high expectations towards your counterpart.


	3. No Clue

Krall would never understand why a wine cabinet in a Pureblood’s house was deemed so special. If it were for festivals, he might have understood it. Festivals were one of the times, where wine was drunken in excess. The other reason was a lot darker.

Krall especially could not understand it in regards to the Rosier family. Vinda Rosier was about as joyful at parties as a cat, which had fallen into the bath tube. Without seeing the bottles in the liquor cabinet, Krall could make some educated guesses as to what she had:  _ Elven Wine _ or maybe  _ Licorne Sang _ , which despite its gory name was an incredibly sweet and rich wine, known for its expensiveness.

The liquor cabinet was made of timber wood with some elegant gravure of flowers and swirls in it. Dark yellow glass hid the bottles. Besides said liquor cabinet stood a round table, around which some antique armchairs had been positioned.

Vinda Rosier was sitting in one of these armchairs. She was a tall woman with fair skin like a porcelain doll. Her black hair was cut into a bob like any independent woman wore it these days. Her legs were crossed underneath her tightly cut, forest green dress. Her head rose as Krall sauntered into the room.

“Fear not for I am with you”, Krall stated, “Be not dismayed for I am your guard. I will strengthen you, I will uphold you with my righteous hand… Or something.”

“Krall?!”, Vinda called and wrinkled her nose.

“Yes. It is me. You don’t sound too happy about it.” Krall drew out his wand. Giving a flick with his wrist, the wizard rasped a word underneath his breath and one of the chairs floated towards him. Placing it opposite to Vinda, Krall took a seat.

She rolled her eyes. “Your education is very rustic”, remarked Vinda, “And no clever proverb is going to change that. What are you doing here?” She cocked her head. If ice and fire could met between their gazes, it would have created a little explosion by now.

“Pour me a drink and I’ll tell you.”

Vinda looked like she was about to spat in his face. It seemed only her good manners held her back. “I am the deputy of Gellert Grindelwald”, she reminded Krall harshly, “And I don’t serve bartenders!”

Krall whistled to himself. His leather trench coat rustled as he shifted on his chair. Taking off his cap, Krall ran his fingers through short, black hair. No matter how he dressed, in her eyes, Krall would always be a foreigner. Not his fault he was born with what fancy Europeans liked to call Slit Eyes. Absolute rubbish.

“So bigger fool am I for coming here and expecting hospitality from a Rosier”, Krall said.

Vinda’s knuckles strained under stretched skin. “If you were not an acolyte of Grindelwald, I would have send you out onto the street.” It was an empty threat for Krall knew Vinda never dared to upset Grindelwald. Sometimes he wondered how Vinda could be behind Grindelwald’s cause and still have conservatism deep in her bones.

Vinda finally sighed and reluctantly asked: “Then why are you here?”

Krall clasped his hands together and tilted his head a notch. “You were supposed to receive a messenger today”, he stated, referring to a Patronus, “I saw fit to carry it. Save us some magic, and well give me the opportunity to voice my concerns regarding the situation.” His dark eyes shimmered in worry. “To put it simple: Shit hit the fan.” And with these words Krall explained how Albus Dumbledore had been captured and was held prisoner in Nurmengard with the prospect of being tortured and killed.

Vinda blinked in confusion when he had finished. She got up and began to pace the room. Stopping, she looked back at him. “I don’t understand”, said the woman, “Isn’t that supposed to be a good thing? Albus Dumbledore has been a threat to our case for years.”

Krall remarked: “Carrow let it slip that something seems wrong. With Grindelwald. She did not explain to me what she means, but she should know it. She has been the one capturing Dumbledore and she has been around Grindelwald for the last couple of days.”

“Wait!”, Vinda rose a brow, “He sent Carrow to do this?! Why did he not send me?”

“Maybe because Carrow does not look like she is having a stick up her ass”, Krall suggested with a short grin. Which only resulted in Vinda throwing a quick jinx at him, followed by some degrading term on him being a “bastard immigrant and the son of a whore”. The Asian wizard dodged and Vinda only broke a glass.

“Really you should work on your aim”, Krall teased, though he knew Vinda was one of the deadliest acolytes out there. It was just funny to see her agitated. Krall rose his hand to stop her from trying to hit him again. “Though you shouldn’t do that now. Remember there are more important matters at hand.”

Applying to her sense of duty always worked. Vinda lowered her wand, though her look did not lose any of its venom. “You said you had concerns”, she stated, “I believe you won’t leave my house until you told me these concerns. Go on then. I am listening.”

_ Finally! _ Krall lowered his wand. Gesturing with one hand, he stated: “You are right that we have to deal with Albus Dumbledore. It is unavoidable and must be done. However Grindelwald not behaving like himself is not a good sign.” She was about to say something but Krall cut her off. “All I am saying is: We should travel to Nurmengard to keep an eye on this situation. Just in case.”

***

Krall and Vinda brought water and the cold into Nurmengard. It had been raining so badly, that the Asian wizard had almost sprained his ankle when crossing the stepping stones. Vinda had refused to take the risk of an involuntary bath in the river and had apparated as close to the entrance as possible.

It still did not make her any less drier then Krall. As they stood in the foyer, Vinda was shutting and opening an umbrella, spraying more water everywhere. Krall had wrung out his cap, which unlike his trench coat was not waterproofed and thus had the consistence of a drenched napkin on his hair. Waving his wand, Krall finished drying himself, and Vinda stored her umbrella into the metal stand.

They did not have to look long for Carrow. She came out of one of the bathrooms and waved her hands to dry them. Her expression was grim, though it brightened upon seeing Krall and Vinda. “Thank Merlin you are here”, she called and rushed over to them, “You cannot believe what has happened, while you were gone.”

Carrow lead them to the table and as they sat down, she promptly told them everything. “Dumbledore’s going to survive it”, she finished, “Grindelwald gave me specific orders to make sure he stays alive. I spent the last hours cleaning the cell and him. My arms were drenched in his blood, you cannot believe it.”

Vinda inspected Carrow’s arms as if she expected to find some drops of blood on them. However they were clean and smelled a bit of soap. One of her dark brows rose. “I don’t understand”, she stated, “Why precisely are you making such a fuss out of this? Grindelwald has always been brutal with prisoners. What is so worrying about him being cruel towards Dumbledore now?”

Carrow moistened her lips. The younger Pureblood rubbed over her arms and turned her face away. Finally Carrow stated: “The level to which he goes to is worrying. Grindelwald usually has a reason behind his violence. He does not do things like this for fun. It is always a response to some kind of provocation. But I cannot imagine what Dumbledore could have done to provoke him. In fact…”

Her sentence ran dry, and they all knew what she did not dare to speak. Gellert Grindelwald had always made it clear that Albus Dumbledore was an enemy to them. That he posed the greatest threat to their cause. Most assumed it was because of Albus Dumbledore’s magical ability. But if they were honest that was an excuse. There was an underlying reason. The way Grindelwald spoke about Dumbledore sounded different then any politician he talked about. There was such raw energy in his tone. Some kind of underlying rage.

Carrow dodged her head as if she feared Grindelwald might come in at any moment. Krall laid a hand on her trembling fingers. They were willing to die for the cause. But dieing by Grindelwald’s wrath… That spooked even the bravest of the acolytes. Carrow swallowed and continued talking: “I just know that something does not sit right! Something’s off, can’t you see it? It is not following our normal protocols. Usually Grindelwald at least explains to a handful of us parts of his plans. But he has not told me anything. What about you?”

Krall shook his head and even Vinda murmured, she had not received any news from Grindelwald in regards to Albus Dumbledore. In fact, she added, she had not been informed until today that Albus Dumbledore had become their prisoner. Carrow’s eyes widened and she stammered: “But you are his deputy, Vinda! I would have expected he at least told you something.”

“Nothing here on my part.” Vinda waved a hand. “But really, ma fille, I think you should not be this stressed. So what if this is a bit different? Dumbledore is not our normal prisoners. Of course things won’t go entirely like we are used to. Remember Percival Graves? That man played a special role in our master’s plan. Grindelwald was just as violent as you describe him now. What is the big difference here? He broke Graves’ arm, remember? Is that not the same as having half your face ripped off?”

Krall shook his head and said: “There is a difference. Percival Graves was a political enemy. Grindelwald had a specific aim when it came to him. He wanted the Director’s habitus, so he could impersonate him. He was after information. Once this was done, he discarded Graves in a matter of hours. Carrow and I had to bury the body. This is not just a political situation. We all know what this is! Grindelwald is not looking for information. He is looking for an excuse to hurt.”

***

Carrow was a jack-of-all-trades. She had just enough knowledge in all fields of magic to do some basic, but important things. Especially her healing magic was excellent. Grindelwald had seen her mend broken bones and fix up gashes on shoulders with ease. She had outdone herself this time. The cell had been cleaned off all the blood. The bucket had been swapped out, and she had shaken out the bed. If the place was not so cold and barren in the first place, one might have found some comfort in here.

Albus Dumbledore was sitting on the bed. Gellert had allowed Carrow to undo his bindings. It was not like the Professor could escape anyway. He was sitting with his shoulder towards Grindelwald. His face was turned away, so that the dark wizard could only see one of his piercing blue eyes. It looked quite disillusioned as to what had happened. That was if you could be even more disillusioned in Grindelwald’s regards.

“You haven’t had enough?”, asked Albus. He still refused to look at Gellert. His voice was raspy from screaming and the stale air. There was a tray with bread and water before him, which he had not touched. What was he waiting for? Did he hope for any special treatment? Simple because they had been together almost twenty years ago? He could keep waiting! Parts of Gellert had actually played with the thought of simply starving him. But this pain was too passive. It did not suit what Grindelwald wanted.

Gellert walked into the centre of the room. Pointing the Elder Wand at the door, he shut it behind him. “I can never have enough”, he crooned.

Albus turned his face to fully look at Grindelwald. His right side looked perfectly normal. It was the left one that now bore a mark, done by the dark wizard. Three thick, pale pink scars went from the forehead down to the beginning of his cheek. They had a short break, where the eye was.

“You cannot touch me any more, Grindelwald”, whispered Albus. He strengthen his shoulders. “I will wear these scars with dignity. Not shame.”

Gellert could not help but laugh at his ludicrous statement. Waving dismissively with his hand, he placed his bag of tools down. “Keep talking like that”, Gellert said, “and you’ll be the most dignified wizard in Austria. Such a shame nobody is going to bother.”

Opening the bag, he began to rummage through it. Grindelwald had already used the knife and whip. What should it be this time? Maybe the shackles? Hang Albus Dumbledore at his arms from the ceiling, splitter-naked? While Gellert Grindelwald prowled around him, hitting and scratching whenever he pleased? Or should he use the elements? Drench Albus in freezing water? Or let a viper go for his neck? So many ideas!

Years of hatred, boiling underneath his skin, had made his love stretch itself as thin as skin. Gellert Grindelwald could not allow for that emotion to stand in his way. Albus Dumbledore was a danger to the Greater Good. And any danger had to be eliminated.

Albus shook his head. “You have said everything hurtful under the sun to me, Grindelwald”, he said as he observed Grindelwald search through his bag, “What more is there to say?”

Holding the long chains in his hands, the dark wizard responded: “A lot is still unspoken between us.” Gellert walked towards Albus, prowling like a cat, “Things you rather not hear. You need to hear this! You need to know what you have done to me!” Wrapping the chains around Albus’s wrist, he tossed them up into the air. A murmured spell and the chain’s ends grew into the ceiling. Arms raised above his head, Albus Dumbledore was forced to stand on trembling legs. His toes barely touched the ground.

“What possibly could you tell me that I do not already know?”, Albus asked softly, “What possible thing could hurt me more then what you already did?” The scarred eye could hardly look at Grindelwald. “You left me even though I loved you, even though I gave you everything. What could possibly be worse then this?”

How dared Albus twist the truth and not even consider his side of the story? But then Albus Dumbledore had never considered Grindelwald’s side of the story. For why should he? Gellert was simply the expelled student from Durmstrang Institute. He had been made a Nobody in that one night. However now Gellert was a Somebody. More then just that! The whole world knew his name!

“What could be worse then this? You dare to ask what could be worse?!?” Gellert Grindelwald grabbed Albus by his chin and rose his head. “I will tell you.”

Letting go of his wrist, he opened the bag again. What Grindelwald levitated out of it, was a dark jar, which was filled up to its half with blood. But that was not the interesting part about that jar. It was all about what it contained.

After his expulsion Gellert Grindelwald had been forced to take several jobs to have galleons in his pockets and food in his stomach. One of those jobs had been tending to a rich landlord’s garden. The wizarding family there had a collection of some of the most dangerous and intriguing plants Gellert had ever seen. In fact Gellert learned more about magical flora in that one gardening job than in six years of school.

But Gellert would not have been him, if he had not taken some souvenir from this fascinating garden. And that souvenir was in the jar Gellert held in his magic before Albus. It was a long, dark green vine, which was covered in blood red thorns so sharp you couldn’t touch them without cutting yourself. Thus Gellert took the plant out in his magic as well. It curled and twisted itself around like a snake.

“We made a promise to each other”, Gellert whispered, “That we would never leave each other alone. That we would do this together. You were asking me to trust you, but believe me you forfeited my trust when you broke our most dearest promise!”

Gellert leaned forwards and drew out his knife again. Letting the blade run across Albus’ hip bone, the dark wizard made a deep cut into the flesh. The other one let out a startled shout and his muscles tensed. “What… are… you… doing?”, Albus rasped and his blue eyes widened.

“Don’t move”, Gellert chided him, “You will only increase your damage.” Then with the precision of a thread, going through the eye of a needle, he planted the thorny vine inside of the wound. It immediately started to grow. Sharp thorns hooked themselves into flesh and the scream, they forced out of Albus, was so loud, it probably echoed through all of Nurmengard.

Tears streamed down his face. Frantically searching for his breath, it seemed to take Albus some time to stammer: “What is this? Gellert, what did you do?!” He stared down at the wound. It seemed to take him all of his willpower not to flinch.

Gellert Grindelwald took a step back. Cleaning his blade with a handkerchief, he stated: “They are called Devil’s Berries. A sentient, dangerous bush, which feeds off blood and the magic inside of people and creatures. They are deemed Non-Tradeable Goods by the Ministry of Class A, because their berries are highly toxic. Already one of them could kill a fully grown man.” Gellert smirked. “Und es scheint, als würde ihnen dein Blut besonders gut schmecken.”

Albus responded: “You are mad, Gellert! All of this just because of a feud, that happened in the past? I did not break our promise. You left me no other choice. You started this duel! You attacked Aberforth! And after it you ran away like a coward.” Small drops of saliva danced from his lips. “When I had given you everything, when I had loved you… We were closer then brothers. Closer then family. And you left me for your ideological pursuit.”

“That was no cowardice.” Gellert crossed his arms. Through layers of leather and silk, he could feel the pendant bite into his wrist like a frozen blade. “I had no other option! Had I stayed, Aberforth would have sold me out to the Ministry. I would have become the scapegoat for Ariana’s death. And with my history, the Ministry would have believed him!”

Albus fell silent. Grindelwald had hit the nail on the head. Ariana Dumbledore’s death was a dark stamp, a damp patch on their memories. The definition of ambiguity. None of them knew who had shot her. Or if any of them had shot her. And from the shadows on Albus’ face, Gellert could tell he did not want to know.

Blood dripped down upon the floor. The Devil’s Berry was driving. Albus said: “You still could have faced your mistake. Any reasonable man would have done that. Any honourable man would have done that.”

“Don’t pretend like you know the values of all people. What you suggest, would have been suicide for me. Running was the only option I had, if I wanted to stay alive. It was not an easy choice to make, trust me.” Grindelwald’s voice trembled almost. He turned his face away, fingers clutching around the Elder Wand so hard, his knuckles turned white. “But what hurt far more, was to see how you had betrayed me!”

“I didn’t –”

“You did!”, Gellert spat, “How else would have Aberforth been able to convince you to break your promise? How else would have Aberforth made you choose your family over me? The family, you previously did not give a damn about! Don’t look at me like that! I remember the boy, who called his brother ‘ill-tempered’ and ‘stupid’ and his sister ‘handicapped’ and ‘a burden’! You threw killing curses at me in that duel! Yes, don’t think for one moment I have forgotten that!”

The Professor dropped his head and admitted: “You were right, Gellert. I used to be that awfully bitter and quite rude boy. You are asking why I chose my family? Because it was the right thing to do. As much as I love you, Gellert, I could not support your ideas. They were dangerous and could only mark a path of tragedy. And look how much blood has been shed. Even you have to see that this cannot be right!”

“I only ever did, what you had once approved of”, Gellert responded, “Any measures we take must be done for the Greater Good. Your words, not mine. I am only following your principle. I had thought it would make you happy. That you would be proud.”

Albus shook his head. “This utilitarianism is not my way of thinking, Gellert”, he responded. More blood gushed out of his wound, still he pressed on: “I could never be proud of mass murder. Of course I too want a world of harmony for wizards and Muggles, but you are going the wrong way. I am unhappy and ashamed of this. I am ashamed of my own foolishness, that I did not see the violent monster you actually are. That my love blinded me and allowed you to manipulate me.”

Gellert froze. It was as if somebody had driven a nail through his foot. The pain soared through him and blocked out everything else. The whole world seemed to have become deadly quiet. For a short moment Gellert Grindelwald staggered as if having endured a physical blow.

The Elder Wand sparked blue flames. Grindelwald’s eyes were alive and his voice was shrill with pain as he yelled: “Wie kannst du es wagen so mit mir zu reden? Wie kannst du es wagen mich so zu behandeln? Wie kannst du es wagen an mir dieselbe Route zu versuchen, die das verfluchte Ministerium tut?! Ich war für dich da, als du an deinem größten Tiefpunkt warst! Ich habe dir durch eine Zeit in deinem Leben geholfen, wo du nicht wusstest, was du mit dir tun solltest.”

“Gellert…” Albus sounded surprised and concerned, however Gellert did not allow him to make another argument.

“Ich war dein Freund”, the blonde wizard called, feeling tears stream down his face. They landed in the ring of blue fire, which his magic had drawn subconsciously around him, even though Albus could not hurt him physically. “Mehr als nur ein Freund. Ich liebte dich und habe dir mehr anvertraut als du jemals wissen wirst. Und nun kommst du, und du wagst so zu tun als würde ich mich falsch verhalten! Du wagst es meine eigene Natur zu verteufeln, wenn ich so schon immer gewesen bin. Ich habe niemals irgendwelche Angewohnheiten vor dir verborgen gehalten. Ist es meine Schuld, dass du entschieden hast beide Augen davor zu verschließen? Ich bin kein Manipulator. Das bist du!”

At the end of his sobbed yells, his magic released itself. Blue flames shot towards Albus, bright and sharp, causing his eyes to tear. He screamed and tried to shield himself. But Gellert did not see any of this. He had spun around and ran out of the cell, tears clouding his vision and clutching the pendant to his chest.

* * *

Translation:

Und es scheint, als würde ihnen dein Blut besonders gut schmecken = And it seems they find your blood particularly tasty.

Wie kannst du es wagen so mit mir zu reden? Wie kannst du es wagen mich so zu behandeln? Wie kannst du es wagen an mir dieselbe Route zu versuchen, die das verfluchte Ministerium tut?! Ich war für dich da, als du an deinem größten Tiefpunkt warst! Ich habe dir durch eine Zeit in deinem Leben geholfen, wo du nicht wusstest, was du mit dir tun solltest. = How dare you talk to me like that? How dare you treat me such? How dare you try to pull the same route on me the bloody Ministry does? I have been there for you when you were at the lowest moment! I have helped you through a time in your life, where you did not know what to do with yourself.

Ich war dein Freund. Mehr als nur ein Freund. Ich liebte dich und habe dir mehr anvertraut als du jemals wissen wirst. Und nun kommst du, und du wagst so zu tun als würde ich mich falsch verhalten! Du wagst es meine eigene Natur zu verteufeln, wenn ich so schon immer gewesen bin. Ich habe niemals irgendwelche Angewohnheiten vor dir verborgen gehalten. Ist es meine Schuld, dass du entschieden hast beide Augen davor zu verschließen? Ich bin kein Manipulator. Das bist du! = I was your friend. More then just a friend. I loved you and I trusted you with more then you will ever know. And now you come and you dare to pretend as if I am acting out of line! You dare to vilify my nature when I have always been like this! I have never hidden any of my tendencies from you. Is it my fault you decide to turn a blind eye? I am not a manipulator. You are!


	4. Epiphany

The scream echoed through Nurmengard. Krall, Vinda and Carrow rose their heads like a pack of deer, startled by the shot of a gun. The sound had been shrill, blood-curling and so broken. Like an animal, which counted its last breaths. Injured and unable to get away.

Carrow immediately headed out of the room in the direction of the sound as if she had only waited for the noise. Vinda shut her book. Though if Krall were honest, she had not turned any page around for the last few hours. They had been sitting in the foyer; agitated silence in the room. What had the acolytes been waiting for? This scream. And even though they had anticipated it, it still terrified them to the bone.

“Tell me this was Dumbledore’s death cry”, urged Vinda.

Krall shook his head and stood up. “I don’t think this was a death cry”, he admitted. It happened rarely that death was this loud. They had seen their fair share of ugly deaths. How it contorted bodies, how the breath caught in throats and glassy eyes broke as the life left them. The stench of blood lingered on their hands for days to come. Death was crippling and a scary kind of quietness.

“You are not saying this was Grindelwald, right?” Vinda sounded speechless, and Krall could see the same question in her eyes he had. If it had indeed been him, then this was a kind of sound they had never suspected he could produce. 

Grindelwald had always carried an air of being unbreakable around him. Whether it had been torture by the government officials or battles, which tore human bodies to shreds… Gellert Grindelwald had always come out on top, even if his body had been drenched in blood. The idea of something breaking him was unthinkable and terrifying.

Hasty steps caused Vinda to rise besides him. They stared at the door, hearts beating in anticipation as they counted the clicking of Carrow’s heels. She barged into the room, her hair hanging in strands around her face, blood staining her hands. However that was nothing compared to her face. Sweat covered it, her eyes were wide and she panted.

Krall and Vinda had no chance of asking what had happened, because Carrow immediately burst out: “He’s blind! Dumbledore cried when he heard me, begging for Gellert to come back.” Vinda inhaled in shock. Hardly anybody used Grindelwald’s first name. Even among the acolytes, only a few had earned that right.

Carrow brushed her strands behind her ear. She continued: “I never saw a man this broken. He, he clung to me as I healed him. He begged for me to find Gellert and get him to come back. He stammered something about being sorry. It was a terrible sight. Like a child lost in the woods.”

“Was he uttering that scream we heard?”, Vinda asked carefully.

Carrow shook her head. “No. He said, he had yelped, but he had heard the same sound. It was why he begged for Gellert to come back.”

Icy silence followed her words. Krall could feel the hair rise in his neck. Even though this scream had faded away, it still rang in his head. Had he ever heard a sound like this before? Sometimes. But never with this intensity.

“This is getting ridiculous!”, Vinda suddenly burst out. She threw her arms up into the air. “We know how this has to end! Grindelwald had the perfect opportunity to finish Dumbledore off. After all, what else is he now doing but pointlessly playing around? I cannot believe he would be this weak and…”

Carrow gave a startled hiccup sound and stared behind Vinda. Krall followed her gaze and his skin paled. “Vinda, psssstt!”, he called and made a jerking move with his hand near his throat, desperately hoping she would stop talking. Vinda did stop. However not because of Krall’s warning sign, but because somebody addressed her from behind.

“Would you have the decency to explain to me what you were discussing in this little circle of yours?” Gellert Grindelwald shut the door behind himself. His boots left dark imprints on the floor. There was something near the corners of his eyes. Dried strains of tears. Grindelwald crossed his arms. They swallowed, feeling like children, who had been caught stealing from the cookie jar.

“Well, we…”, began Carrow, trying to find a good excuse.

“I know if you try to lie”, warned Gellert. It felt as if he was reaching for them with invisible fingers, brushing against their foreheads. Plucking thoughts directly from their skull. Even with having clearly cried only hours beforehand, Grindelwald’s mismatched eyes had something phantom-like and ghostly about them.

Carrow shifted around. Krall moistened his lips. None of them knew what best to say. Finally Vinda gathered the courage to speak for them. She was Grindelwald’s deputy, so she had the least risk of punishment if she spoke out of line. It was her duty to offer an alternative perspective.

“Mein Herr”, explained Vinda, “we have been talking about the Dumbledore situation. And I won’t lie: None of us knows why precisely you are going this approach, however we fear it might not be the most practical, so to speak.”

Grindelwald inclined his head a notch. “Then what do you suggest I do?”, he asked.

Krall’s gaze fell upon the pendant Grindelwald wore before his chest. Some golden amber, encased in a cage of silver. It glowed and pulsated like a living heart. Without understanding why, the sight repulsed Krall.

Vinda squared her shoulders. Her black eyes locked with Grindelwald’s as she said with a firm voice: “We believe he must be killed! As soon as possible.” Gellert Grindelwald’s expression became even more unreadable. “Please, mein Herr”, Vinda urged, “You have to understand: This will lead to nowhere. Our war is still going on. You are wasting your time!”

Grindelwald’s fingers went towards the pendant subconsciously. He held onto it with a tenderness as if it was Albus Dumbledore himself he was holding. Krall’s stomach twisted. Even Gellert’s voice sounded younger and sweeter then the Asian man had ever heard it before: “I am not wasting my time. Dumbledore deserves to suffer like this.”

“Take it off!” Krall’s words seemed to surprise everybody. “I mean it!” He pointed at the pendant. “Take that bloody thing off! You are pinning after a man you can no longer have.” The black-haired wizard had taken a step forwards.

The others tensed. Grindelwald reached for his wand. “Krall, don’t speak of something you do not understand”, he warned him.

“Rubbish! Do you honestly think I cannot see the heartbreak in your eyes?!” Krall’s nostrils flared. “That stupid necklace is a thing of the past! It is a hindrance. You have to think of the future. Think of the cause. Get rid of the damn thing!”

“Krall, stop it!”, warned Vinda.

“Vinda, don’t interfere with this!”, Krall replied.

“No, Vinda is right!” Carrow’s soft voice was shrill in worry, “Leave it, Krall!”

He called sharply: “Listen, we all know Dumbledore has to die! Even Grindelwald knows it! And if he cannot –”

“Ich verbiete dir so mit mir zu reden, Krall!”, roared Grindelwald outraged, “This is my last warning: Drop the subject!”

“No!”Suddenly Krall was dashing forwards, arm outstretched, ready to grab the necklace. If Gellert Grindelwald was not going to take the pendant off, Krall would rip it from his neck. His fingers almost brushed against the silvery metal. Carrow and Vinda yelled some warning, he did not hear. Gellert’s eyes widened for the split of a second, before they narrowed dangerously.

“DAS REICHT! _CRUCIO!_ ” Gellert Grindelwald swung his wand over his head and the next thing, Krall could feel, was the Unforgivable Curse hurling itself into his stomach like a canon ball. Its force was strong enough to catapult him through the foyer. His back hit the wall, stars danced before his eyes, and as Krall dropped down onto the floor, his entire body protested in overbearing agony. It was as if somebody had thrown him under a pack of starved dogs. It was as if thousands of knives simultaneously dug into his flesh.

“Krall…” Carrow hurried through the foyer and knelt down besides him. Wrapping an arm around his waist, she helped Krall on trembling feet. His muscles were sore and shuddered uncontrollably. His vision seemed to create three images of everything at the same time. He blinked, desperately trying to get his sight to behave normally again. His mouth was dry.

Vinda looked uncomfortable and unsure how to respond. Gellert stared at them, clutching the pendant in his fist. “I heard all of you”, he scolded them, “You cannot possibly understand what this situation means to me. And I have not forgotten our future. However Dumbledore currently is my priority. I will kill him on my own terms. This discussion is finished.” And he turned around and left.

Only when they were sure he was gone, did Carrow help Krall to return back to his seat. “You are alright?”, she asked and checked his ribcage and limbs. Krall nodded and stammered something about needing a minute to breath. Vinda had been staring in the direction, where Gellert had been leaving.

She turned towards him and said: “I hate to admit it, but you were right, Krall. This is not the man, we swore our allegiance to. Remember, when he used to be so passionate and full of drive and vision? You could look into his eyes, and the universe seemed to answer your gaze. So focused. Always sure of what he wanted. Where is that man now?”

Krall whipped his hand over his mouth. “He’s still there”, he assured Vinda, “But he’s losing it. We are too easy on him. We have to do something!”

Carrow rose her shoulders. “When you have a lump, you have to remove the damaged tissue carefully. Ripping it out, will only cause a larger and deeper bleeding wound, running the risk of an infection.”

“All I know is that people turn to alcohol for the craziest reasons”, Krall confessed, “Poverty, problems with the family, broken hearts… Sure thing, it makes you forget the wound in your heart, but the moment the alcohol fades away, it returns; stronger then ever. Grindelwald does not need revenge. He needs closure.”

Vinda exhaled. “We will deal with Dumbledore, don’t worry.”

Carrow said: “In a way that does not break Grindelwald.”

***

Nurmengard’s labyrinth contained various sleeping quarters. They were elegant and luxurious, each having a small fireplace of its own. However one room was reserved for the leader of the revolution. The room was larger then most places, had a herd, hidden behind a bronze wall with cats carved upon it, a box for clothes and a large, comfortable bed. The furnace’s fire bathed everything in gold and its quiet roaring barely reached his ears.

Gellert Grindelwald was laying on his back on this bed. The Elder Wand laid on the night stand. The dark wizard had not touched it since he had thrown the Cruciatus Curse at Krall. It did not happen often that Grindelwald reacted in such a provoked fashion. Normally he was a lot calmer. But Krall, Fausts Teufelspakt, he had been pressing all the wrong buttons at once! And that he had dared to try to grab the pendant and rip it off Grindelwald’s neck. The blonde wizard had never expected so much foolishness and recklessness to be in one man.

But then Krall could not know the importance of this item to him. Gellert Grindelwald carefully reached underneath his shirt and pulled out the pendant. Such an innocent looking object. It seemed to resemble a vial, which encased some kind of stone. An amber, maybe? If Gellert were honest, even when Albus had made him that gift, he had never bothered to ask what stone he precisely had used. Maybe it was not even a stone. Magic made the stone pulsate like a heart. It resonated a comfortable warmth.

His fingers gently ran over the edges of the pendant. The metal, which encased it, formed all sorts of swirls and turns. Two shapes looked clearly like a heart. They were on opposite sides of one another. A low sigh escaped Gellert’s lips. Albus had forged this item as a present when they had made that oath to one another. They would be together and always help each other. Niemals allein. That had been their promise.

And Dumbledore had broken it. The thought alone rose in his throat like bile. How could he dare to demand trust from him now? How could he dare to demand Gellert let himself be reasoned with? After all he had done. Albus had broken the one promise Gellert had counted on. He had turned what should have been an organised revolution into a mad fire. A wild flame, hungry, savage and out to kill. No beauty, no grace. Just the brutal desire to survive.

Gellert turned the necklace in his hand and looked at its tip. D and G. The two letters had been linked with each other in the metal. Gellert stared at them so much, his vision swam. Scoffing, the blonde wizard turned his face away. He would not allow himself to cry! Albus Dumbledore did not deserve to know how he caused Gellert Grindelwald to scream himself to sleep, tears in his face. He had already seen him cry once. He would not get the satisfaction to do so again. Gellert had taken his eyes. Burned them out until they turned into white unusable orbs. He had claimed how he had been blind towards Grindelwald’s so-called wrong doings. That fool! Now he got a taste as to what being blind really meant.

Grindelwald’s pondering were interrupted when a voice reached his ear: “Do you love Albus Dumbledore?” Startled, the dark wizard looked up to see a familiar figure step out of the darkness towards him. Chinese eyes and black hair. The clothes of a servant. A servant, that Gellert had raised above his standing.

“Krall?”, he called in disbelief, “What are you doing here? I had made it clear that debate was finished.”

He nodded. “I know it is finished, but please just answer my question, mein Herr.” Grindelwald’s brows furrowed. Didn’t he think this was a touch too personal to answer? The dark wizard’s lips pulled into a thin line. Krall added to his demand: “Look, Grindelwald, I am not asking you to give me a long explanation. A Yes or No will suffice. Do you love Albus Dumbledore?”

“Yes.”

“Why are you sounding so sad when you say that?”

“I am not sad!” Gellert’s hand shot for the Elder Wand, however Krall quickly rose his hands to calm him.

“I am sorry. Maybe I should revise my question.” Krall stared deeply into his eyes. Gellert always found his gaze resembled the amber of the necklace. Deep, dark orange. Strangely beautiful. “Did you love Albus Dumbledore?”

“Yes.”

“What made you stop loving him?”

Gellert felt his hands place themselves upon his shoulders. Hugging himself, Gellert stared down at the necklace. His voice was hoarse: “He...broke a promise to me. When his brother accused me of having poisoned his mind, Albus did nothing. And when somebody died because of our different opinions, he let his brother scream murder. He never came for me after that.” Faust’s Pudel, why were Gellert’s eyes so wet?!

“You want revenge for that, don’t you?”, asked Krall, “For what he has done to you. That’s why you want to make him suffer. So that you feel better.”

Gellert nodded.

“Do you feel better?”

Gellert shook his head.

Krall reached forwards and laid his fingers on the pendant. Amber eyes bore into Grindelwald’s mismatched ones. He shut his gaze and turned his face away. Grindelwald could feel Krall ripping the pendant of his neck and heard the chain snapping. Then however Gellert heard another noise. A clonk, followed by an odd snick as if an angel’s choir was singing. A sharp smell filled his nostrils.

Gellert Grindelwald opened his eyes and turned his head. He inhaled in shock. Krall had tossed the pendant into the furnace. The metal was clinking and the amber stone splintered, and the sound was beautiful and tragic at the same time. For a short moment some part in Grindelwald yelled:  _ What are you doing? You cannot burn this! _ , and he wanted to jump to his feet.

However Krall’s firm, yet urgent voice demanded all his attention: “Listen to me!  _ LISTEN! _ That man had his chance! He could have come for you, but he did not. He proved that your love was not something he deemed worth fighting for. And you deserve better then this! You are a man, that made me believe that an immigrant, a simple bartender, could leave his mark on history! You made me believe I could be greater then I could ever dream myself to be! You inspire people, Grindelwald! And I will not let that bloody stupid feud ruin the person, that you are!”

By now the sound of the pendant had grown silent. It seemed to have melted into an undefined mass of metal and stone. Probably one could not even read the D and G any more. Was that the reason Gellert Grindelwald had carried the pendant with him? Because some foolish part in him had believed that Albus would come back to him? Prove that Grindelwald’s love was worth being condemned for? Being scorned for?

Gellert Grindelwald looked at Krall and thought of his acolytes – Krall himself, Vinda, Carrow – who had all willingly come to him. Knowing how the wizarding communities would scorn them, but they carried their heads high, believing in Grindelwald’s cause, his words, but most of all, believing in him. They had given Gellert a loyalty ten times worth of Albus Dumbledore’s love. If it had even been that!

“You were right”, he murmured, “Albus, he…” Gellert swallowed. “Dumbledore never deemed my love worth fighting for.”

“No”, repeated Krall gently, “But I believe you are a person worth fighting for and alongside. We all do. Now get over what that man has done to you and do your duty.”

***

Albus Dumbledore had left his bed when Gellert Grindelwald entered. He was standing by the window, hands clutching the sill to support himself. His stance was strangely off. One of his legs seemed to always snap towards the left side. There was a long, new scar on his hip, which went diagonally towards his thigh. It was of a deeper pink then the paled one of the three old scars on his face.

He had not noticed Grindelwald. The dark wizard broke the silence with a playful croon: “What do you keep looking out that window? Pointless! With your eyes being messed up and all. Nothing out there for a washed up Professor like you.” His words seemed to finally snap Dumbledore out of his daydream. His sigh was agitated and his head vaguely turned in Grindelwald’s direction.

His eyes twitched around, unable to find anything to focus on. The edges had become red and sore. The eyes themselves looked like little pearls, white as snow, but without any glow or beauty to them. They might as well have been dead. Albus Dumbledore was blinking at an irregular interval.

“Have you come to gloat?”, he asked. His voice was strained. Painfully so. How much had he screamed in these past few days?

“Nah”, Grindelwald chuckled at his remark, “Relax, Albus. I am only here for a little bit of fun.”

“Mockery and having fun are two very different things.”

“Nonsense!”, Gellert said, “I just have a very specific sense of humour. It simply happens at the expanse of somebody else.”

Albus shook his head. “I rather not wish to be made fun off.” He did not seem to have it in him to really fight back any more. His arm trembled as the Professor tried to move away from the sill. His legs seemed to give away under him any second now.

Before this could happen, Gellert walked over and took his arm. Albus clung to the dark wizard like a man to a log, who risked drowning. His weight felt heavy, however Gellert strengthened his shoulders and lead him towards the bed. Albus’ breath was stale. He stammered: “Gellert, why have you really come back?!”

He actually sounded afraid. His blind eyes darted around frantically as if he was expecting blows or more cuts at any given moment. The grip around Grindelwald’s arm was so tight, it would leave marks upon his wrist and upper arm for sure. Albus seemed just as fearful to let him go. The blonde wizard had never seen him like this. So vulnerable. Not even in these moments in Godric’s Hollow when he would rant to Gellert about how much he despised his life and lot.

Helping Albus onto the bed, Gellert let go of his arm. He reached forwards as if to touch Grindelwald again. The blonde wizard took a step backwards. He did not want Albus to touch him. Not now. Not when this moment was about to happen.

Gellert began to search in his pockets. “Why are you here?”, repeated Albus, “Have you come to torment me again?” His voice… It sounded so sad, so pleading and so deeply afraid.

Gellert looked up. “No”, he said.

“I don’t believe you.” Albus was sniffling now. He rose his arm and tried to dry his eyes. “Gellert, I cannot stand this much longer. You have to understand: I only have this one body and mind. And you cannot break it forever.” Gellert Grindelwald was about to raise his voice, but Albus cut him off: “Listen, Gellert, I know why you are doing this. You are mad at me for having broken our promise. And I see it now: You have every right to be mad. But please, have some form of mercy. Even you cannot be that set on hatred, that you would want to prolong this suffering.”

Gellert pulled out a handful of berries. They were small and black, strangely looking like miniature cherries. Weighting them in his hand, the dark wizard closed his eyes for a few seconds.  _ Just do it. What are you waiting for? It is the only answer. _ Gellert Grindelwald could only pray that this would indeed make him feel better. But he had to do it. Or else he would go mad.

Gellert sat down next to Albus on the bed. His head spun around. Those blind eyes tried to stare at him. Even now they could not entirely focus and were rolling around in their caves. How did that feel? To be trapped in an everlasting darkness? To never be able to see anybody again? Was it such a big bridge towards death? Did it make things easier?

“What are you doing?”, whispered Albus and he sounded so much like the boy Gellert once knew and loved, it broke his heart. He leaned forwards and placed an arm on his shoulders. Gently guiding him, Gellert made him lean against him. Albus’ hands trembled and one of them patted against Grindelwald’s chest. “Gellert…”

“Ssschhhh. Hold still.” Gellert Grindelwald took that free, trembling hand in his own. With his other hand, Gellert placed the berries into his palm. His eyes closed and Grindelwald turned his head away. His voice sounded clipped: “Eat those and all the pain will go away.”

Gellert could not bear to see Albus shove the berries into his mouth and chew. His arm laid around his shoulder, still supporting the blind Professor against him. Silence spun itself between them. It was suddenly and violently interrupted by the muscles of Albus’ shoulder convulsing. His body did a jerk and he started to cough. His blind eyes widened and foam started to form in the corner of his lips.

Albus coughed and a painful shriek escaped his lips. “What have you done to me?!”

Gellert’s eyes turned to the Professor. He was buckling over. Gellert could not hold him any longer and so he rose. Albus fell on his side onto the bed. Grindelwald’s voice was stern as he explained: “I have given you Devil’s Berries.”

Another scream and tears streamed out of those white, beady eyes. “Merlin’s Beard! What have I done? What have I done? Forgive me, Gellert.” Albus Dumbledore’s head turned around in an almost unnatural manner as he tried to find Grindelwald. “Please forgive me...”

“I can’t forgive you. And I will never forgive you.” Albus Dumbledore tried to grab for his cloak and Gellert Grindelwald took a step back, feeling his fingers brush against the fabric. Albus’ sobbing had quieten down. His chest rose and fell as he fought for his breath. His hand lowered and came to a halt near the edge of his bed. Blind eyes broke and stared in an unnatural position towards the ceiling.

“And you shouldn’t forgive me either.”

* * *

Translation:

mein Herr = my Lord

Ich verbiete dir so mit mir zu reden, Krall! = I forbid you to talk to me like that, Krall!  


Das reicht! = That's enough! or Enough!

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you made it this far, I would like to ask if you could take a moment of your time to write a comment or leave a kudo. Feedback is very useful and helps me to improve as well as keeping me motivated to write.


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